Stolen Moment
by Atarashii
Summary: Giftfic for Melfice-san. Yeah, 'nother one. (LegaultxHeath)


_I know now, just quite how  
My life and love might still go on  
In your heart and your mind  
I'll stay with you for all of time_   
  
"Wherever You Go" (The Calling)   
  
-----------------------------   
  
**Title**: Stolen Moment  
**Author**: Atarashii [chibikits(at)livejournal(dot)com]  
**Series**: Fire Emblem  
**Rating**: PG  
**Genre**: Angst, Tragic  
**Pairing**: LegaultxHeath   
  
**Warning**: Shounen-ai. Character death. Uhm, that's all, I believe . . .   
  
**Disclaimer**: Fire Emblem and all its associated characters do not, and never will, belong to me. The plot of this fic does, however.   
  
**Author Notes**: . . . I don't know what to say about this fic. I just wrote what demanded to be written. The plot more than likely sucks, along with the fic itself. I also think I fucked up characterization, which makes me upset at myself. Meh. .. Oh well. Did my best. Giftfic for Melfice.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
**Stolen Moment**   
  
-----------------------------   
  
"I don't get it."   
  
Legault stared up at his lover, a small frown replacing his usual smile. Eyes of a dark azure blazed with an unspoken emotion - sadness? anger? - before the thief's head was bowed, and no longer were they visable.   
  
"I don't get it. It was a simple request, was it not? I just wanted to hear you say it . . . just once, Heath. Just once. Is that so damned hard to ask for?!"   
  
The other said nothing, remaining where he stood before the taller man, own head turned away as well. No explanation was given in response to Legault's question, although the answer continued to circulate within his mind. Thought about, but not spoken; never spoken, because it was one of those things in which Heath would rather not speak of . . . never speak of.   
  
He opened his mouth, before it closed, and his hand tightened further, fingers curled up in loose semblance of a fist. Once more he tried, and this time words sounded, although the thing they spoke of was what Legault least wished to hear.   
  
"I guess, in this case . . . It is. I can't. I'm sorry. I wish I could, and I would if I could, but . . . I just can't . . . I wish you'd just trust me on this one, and stop harassing me over it."   
  
"_Harrassing_? Heh, Heath. Nice to think that you find what I asked for as harrassment." The frown faded, a thin smile appearing in its place, "Perhaps, though, the sole reason as to _why_ is because you're off seeing someone else . . . Perhaps, that someone else is in this camp of ours, even!"   
  
Heath froze at the accusation, head whipping around to stare at the other man with wide eyes, "What the - How could you . . . I-I would never sink as low as to do something like . . . like _that_!!" Hurt evident within his eyes, the wyvern rider began to step back, shaking his head, "I can't . . . I wish . . . you've never been one to be so _pushy_ before . . . I thought you could understand. Understand that even though I speak it not aloud, that I . . ."   
  
A lavender-coloured eyebrow quirked, "That you _what_, Heath?"   
  
"That I . . ." Immediately, realising the trap he was about to fall into, Heath shut his mouth, turning around, "That I do care for you, a lot."   
  
Nothing more was said, and the tent's flap closed after the green-haired man as he left.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
The afternoon soon died, and the night took its place, as made evident by the moon and stars now visable within the dark sky. Most of the traveling troupe remained at the area where camp had been set up, although Heath was an exception. Silent, he remained upon the dark green wyvern's back, facing the stars above. The two had situated themselves within a plains-like area quite a good ways away from the others, and the wyvern slept as his master continued to think over the day's events.   
  
Over and over, Legault's words repeated in his head, and he let out a small sigh, allowing his eyes to close.   
  
He thought about the thief's request; it was simple, like the other had said it was. Simple, true, but . . . Heath didn't wish to take the risk. Didn't want to be the one to bring harm to the one he loved.   
  
_Love . . ._   
  
Sighing another sigh, rolling over, chin now propped within folded arms, the rider pondered.   
  
_I do love him. Something that I never would've considered happening before, but now . . . Time changes things, along with people . . . Besides . . ._   
  
Eyes closed as he continued to muse.   
  
_He's different. Same in some aspects, but different all the same. Legault . . . if I could, I would. But, it seems as if I'm cursed . . . for all others - relative or not - in which I've told aloud to them that I love them, well . . . all of them ended up dying, in one way or another. True, it might just be coincidence, but . . . I can't risk it . . . not with you._   
  
Vague smile flickered into view.   
  
_Just like you promised me that you'd look out for me, and protect me . . . I'm going to do the same for you. Because . . ._   
  
His eyes opened once more, and slowly he sat up, taking Hyperion's reins into hand and lightly nudging the creature with the toe of his boot to wake him.   
  
_I love you._   
  
-----------------------------   
  
It seemed as most everybody had headed off to their respective tents to sleep once the wyvern and its rider returned to camp. Waving a hand to the two on guard for the time being, Heath led Hyperion over to where the other animals were, removing all tack from him and making sure he was tightly secured. Rubbing the creature's neck once, the human drew back, slowly making his way back over to the tent he shared with his lover.   
  
He hesitated, uncertain of whether or not he should go in. He did, after all, have no idea as to whether or not the other was still upset at him . . .   
  
"Heath?"   
  
Moving with a stealth suitable for a thief such as himself, Legault stepped out from the darkness. He paused before the shorter man, crossing his arms against his chest, and tilting his head. He didn't seem upset, although a frown remained.   
  
"I . . . I wished to apologise, for what I said earlier, about . . ."   
  
"There's no need." Heath bit his lower lip, looking aside, "No, I should be the one . . . be the one apologising, because . . . I'm sorry." He looked back up, "Legault . . . I need to ask . . . why be so adamant in something, when it's quite obvious that I feel about you as much as you feel about me? I might not be able to tell you, with words, but . . . they do say that actions speak louder than words, at times."   
  
"Heath . . ." Shaking his head, and with a small smile, Legault stepped forward, drawing the rider into his arms, ". . . I am sorry. You're right. It's not that big of a deal . . . I just wish that I knew _why_ you can't tell me . . . But . . . like you said, actions do speak louder than words, and . . ." Smile shifted to a full-fledged grin, as he stared down, mischief dancing with blue depths once more.   
  
"What th - mmmph."   
  
-----------------------------   
  
The next day, soon after setting off once more for their destinition, dark clouds began to loom in the sky.   
  
Frowning, Heath looked up at said clouds, freeing one hand to brush bangs from his eyes. He leaned over, calling out to the others who rode in the sky with him, voice nearly made inaudible as a strong wind picked up.   
  
"Florina, Fiora! We should go lower. It's going to start raining soon, and it doesn't look as if it'd be a light rain, either."   
  
Soon after speaking, the rider tugged on his reins, speaking commands to his wyvern. In response, Hyperion began to drop a few feet, until the two were but a good seven feet or so from those on the ground.   
  
The rain began to fall, then; light at first, but soon after it had started, it was coming down in torrents.   
  
Heath said nothing, although he listened and watched those below and around him. He watched as the sisters chose to alight onto the ground, due to the fact that the heavy waterfall was beginning to hinder their pegasi's flight, and cause possible danger that both just wished to avoid.   
  
Looking up from where he'd been seeking out a certain thief, Heath was the first to catch sight of what waited ahead.   
  
"What the . . ." He trailed off, urging Hyperion to turn, flying back as swift as he could to where the lords and their tactician were, landing the wyvern onto the ground, "Lord Hector, Lord Eliwood, Lady Lyndis, Lord Mark!"   
  
Hector raised an eyebrow as he took in the rider's obvious distress, "Is something the matter, Heath? If the rain's affecting that creature of yours, traveling by land isn't all that bad!"   
  
"No, no . . ." Nervous hands fiddled with his reins, "There are bandits up ahead, and it looks as if they're waiting for travelers - like us - to ambush. I saw them, that I did . . ."   
  
"Bandits?" Mark looked to the lords, before turning back to face Heath, "How far ahead are they . . . ?"   
  
"Near, Lord Mark. It also seemed as if they were coming nearer still . . . I, pardon me if it isn't my place, but . . . I have a feeling that we will have to fight them."   
  
The brown-haired young man nodded, "I figured such . . . Heath, you're to go ahead, with Florina and Fiora . . . Try to cut off the front liners, and the rest of us will catch up with you."   
  
"Of course."   
  
Saying not another word, Heath and Hyperion flew off in the direction they were told to go, soon followed by the two pegasi.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
The battle didn't seem to be lasting long, Legault noted as he snuck from the one bandit in which he'd snatched a vulnerary from. The other seemed too caught up in this or that to realise the theft, and so he was able to get away without much of a problem. Not that he was complaining, though.   
  
He continued on his way over to where another bandit stood, pausing in order to take a look around to assess his surroundings. Indeed, things seemed to be going well. Once more the thief resumed to his original task, inching nearer to his chosen victim.   
  
If he had known what was to happen next, he never would've turned his back.   
  
The shout came from above, coming from a familiar voice. The exclamation was followed by the whiz of an arrow, and a sickening _thud_.   
  
"Heath?!"   
  
Legault whirled about, just able to take in the sight of the fallen wyvern rider, before he took note of the archer. Eyes narrowed, he rushed over towards the other, unsheathing his sword and plunging it within the archer's chest. He fell, and the thief didn't bother retrieving his weapon as he made his way over to the downed wyvern.   
  
"Heath . . . ?"   
  
"Leg . . ." The rider's voice trailed off, but it was enough for the other to find him.   
  
"Heath . . ."   
  
When Hyperion had been shot out of the sky, he had crashed onto the ground, and on top of his lover. Heath himself was half-crushed underneath the large creature's form, and struggled to remain conscious.   
  
Biting down on his lower lip, Legault kneeled beside him, wishing he could draw the other into his arms, and hold him . . . but something told him that there was no way that would happen. Not now, not ever.   
  
He took in a deep breath, resorting to running his fingers through Heath's hair, his voice beginning to shake, "H-How did it . . . what happened?"   
  
". . . The archer . . . was going to . . . couldn't . . ."   
  
Heath coughed, his vision dimming and growing darker with each passing breath he struggled to take. His form was numb, otherwise; for that much, he was thankful. He was certain that had it been any other circumstances, that he would feel it all . . . and it would hurt. A lot. He was glad for the small reprieve from the pain, and considered it more of a blessing than anything else. Something tugged in the back of his mind; something, that is, aside from the fact that he was going to die.   
  
"Le . . . ga . . . ult . . ." He drew out the taller man's name, "I . . . now, I can . . . can let you know . . . I . . ."   
  
"Heath, don't talk." Legault eyed the huge form of his lover's wyvern companion, looking around in hopes of finding someone else nearby to help. No one. Something wet burned at the corner of his eyes, and the thief raised a hand, brushing both tear and raindrops from his face.   
  
The rain continued to fall, beating down on them, drenching their clothing and washing away the blood that had begun to form underneath both Heath and Hyperion's form.   
  
"Legault . . ." Heath smiled up, although the smile was strained, "I wanted to . . ." Darkness began to take over, and doubled with the force of the rain, it was difficult to see the other's face. He fought an inward battle, laughing in the face of death and pushing past him to deliver his final statement to the one man he loved . . . would always love, even when he no longer existed, "I . . . love you . . ."   
  
". . . Heath."   
  
Legault said nothing more, still attempting to comprehend the situation at hand. He, for all his cynicalism and sarcasm and linguistic skills, couldn't think of something suitable to say . . . for once. Such always seemed to happen at the worst of times, and he berated himself for it. This was one of the times where he wished death held a physical manifestation; at least then he would be able to fight against it, and perhaps if he won he could keep Heath alive, even if for one more day.   
  
He drew from his thoughts as the laboured breathing of the former rider became audible, and he reached out, picking up his lover's hand.   
  
Heath, although noticing of the gesture out of the corner of his eye, was unable to feel the other's touch. Would never feel it again. Staring up at the dark, cloud-riddled sky above, he let himself drift from his current form.   
  
The thief never once left his side, and watched as the other's eyelids fell over lifeless amethyst, sealing them from view forever. He watched as the chest fell, and ceased to rise once more.   
  
He, the one usually doing all the stealing, watched as the one thing - person - he treasured most in his life was stolen from _him_.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
**C'est le fin**.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
**End Notes**: La di da. Mel's gonna kill me. -hums- This is random, but . . . I wish someone would write a Wil death fic. .. 


End file.
